Knee-Deep in Wonder by April Reynolds Read Free Book Online Page B

licking flame beneath the kettle, her mama said, “You look good,” but she had said that before, so Helene knew that her mother was waiting for her to speak.
    â€œAnnie b died last Tuesday.”
    â€œSay what, now?”
    Helene lifted her voice. “Aunt Annie died.”
    â€œYou don’t say.” Something akin to pleasure marked her face, a sudden glee around the mouth. It was as if Queen Ester had woken. Her eyes looked ready to hold anything, like a jar waiting to be filled.
    â€œMama?”
    â€œYes, yes. I hear. Dead?” She swallowed several times and then asked, “What of, baby?”
    â€œHeart attack.”
    â€œWell, if that ain’t quick, I don’t know what is.” Helene almost said, No, that’s not quite right; she struggled till the end, but she didn’t. Her mother’s joyous eyes stopped her.
    â€œSo, how y’all gone take care of it?” Queen Ester stepped back from the stove with the kettle and tumbled hot water into the cups.
    â€œWell”—nervous laughter bubbled to her daughter’s lips—“well, Aunt Annie b belonged to Union Baptist, so—uh, there’s a group of church ladies helping Uncle Ed with the particulars. I think Uncle Ed had in mind a small quiet service. Annie b would have wanted it that way.”
    Confusion slipped back over Queen Ester’s face. Soft, with just a trace of tear, she said, “Well, I’ll be.” That was all. They wouldn’t fall to the ground together, there would be no tangling of arms.
    Helene felt uncertain of what to say next. “The funeral is Wednesday.”
    â€œNever understood why the dead get a show in the middle of the week,” Queen Ester said, dipping her tea bag in and out of her cup. Her voice had sharpened. The promise that had been there when they ran around the house had vanished.
    â€œAre you coming? Uncle Ed says hello.”
    â€œEd? Ain’t seen him in—well, since before my mama passed … Back in ’fifty, I think. Is he still big as the sky?” And she paused. “Awful, ain’t it, the way folks only think to get out when somebody dead.”
    â€œAre you coming?”
    Queen Ester squinted when Helene asked again. “No, can’t say I am—going, that is. Miss Annie b and me didn’t get along when she was living, and I don’t suppose I should act like I like her now that she dead.” Queen Ester gulped down barely steeped tea, and Helene watched as her mother’s mouth disappeared from her view. “No, no, I’m not going nowhere.”
    Helene thought that if there were two mamas, this one would have tried to show her the door. Helene remembered Uncle Ed’s worry and his question: “Can’t you leave well enough alone?” Except now he sounded full of mocking.
    â€œShe’s dead,” Helene pleaded. “I want you to be there; she would want you there too.”
    â€œSee, now that’s a lie, plain and simple. What am I going to go for? So folks can stare at me and lie and say how good I look, when I know I look like I fell down? So I can hear people lying about how much they miss her and then hear myself lie about how much I miss her too? No. No, I don’t need that kind of mess. How many funerals you been to? Can’t be more than I have. I know Annie b dead. What am I going to go to Stamps for, to make sure?”
    The rust was off her mother’s voice. Queen Ester’s tongue flapped like a runaway. She had turned the faucet on, letting the water run, and suds toppled over the sink and onto the floor, but she didn’t notice. Lord, Helene thought, maybe Uncle Ed was right. Maybe I should have stayed at home.
    â€œYou listening?”
    â€œYes, Mama, I’m listening,” Helene said.
    â€œCause it sho don’t look like it.”
    â€œJust because I’m not looking you directly in the eye doesn’t mean I’m